Chattel of Madness
by DementedMasquerade
Summary: With Christine's realization after the events that took place at the Opera Popular she attempts to leave Raoul...but he wont have any of that... For either way you choose, he has to win. EC at the end, Raoul Bashing, Death of a child.Raoul is somewhat OOC


I don't own Phantom of the Opera or any of its characters…this sort is slightly demented but it's my first posted fanfiction ever…so please be kind and review. This story starts out 3 days after De Changy and Christine flee the opera house, ending of the movie/book. The ending consists of the death of a child, if that bothers you, don't read. E/C ending. Raoul bashing.

The faint glowing flicker of a flame resonated from a hollow glass lamp, the glow eerily lighting up the anger in the Victome's face as his fiancé spoke, her voice soft but speaking volumes.

"I…can't stay here Raoul…" she began quietly, sitting on a furnished Victorian styled sofa, the room filled with luxuries of all kinds.

"…I can't leave him in that Opera house to be killed! I must go back!"

A sharp breath seethed through Raoul's parted lips, he had managed to rescue her from her demon of a captive and bring her back to his parent's manor, and now she was going back on her word to love him? His stature seemed almost aflame in the midst of the gold light that echoed throughout the room, his hands clenching slightly. Something –snapped- in his usual calm charming demeanor…something boiled deep inside the pits of his soul as he stared down at his beloved Christine…

He gave this woman his love…his devotion his care…he promised he would save her from the clutches of Hades himself! And now she wanted to go back to him? Strip him of the love she so carelessly gave him? She must be hexed! Yes…yes that must be it…Her innocent soul poisoned from a psychotic genius that lived in the darkness…a faint, horrible laughter filled the room of emotionless and valueless gold's and silvers. A cold chill went down Christine's spine as her chocolate eyes lifted to look to his, his once carefree boyish eyes seemed darker than before, the smooth tanned complexion now ridged with creases and hatred. His laughter worked its way through her mind and heart as she slowly stood up.

"R-raoul…I-I...sor..." he cut her off sharply before she could continue.

"NO!" His voice broke out like a sword's blade slicing through flesh, his body tensed and tall as he heaved.

His breathing increased as he slammed a tightly wound fist into the side of a mahogany desk beside him, the fire flickered more violently incased in the blown glass, a foreshadowing or warning perhaps…

"…No…heh…no my dear you must be mad from the long trip…"

He slowly strode up to this girl whom now quaked in fear before him, a sense of unadulterated power seared through his being with each step towards her cowering frame. He could see tears now…streaking down those lovely porcelain cheeks…porcelain…white…

a white cheek…

a white half of a face…

a mask…

The mask of a man whom stole his little lotte away from him!

"No…my dear sweet Christine…" he began, swiping his fingertips through her dark brown locks of hair, the ringlets following the curve of his index finger as he leaned closer.

"You wont leave me darling…I gave you everything…I gave you a light and now you want to disappear back into the darkness…No…NO!"

His voice changed from a mocking calm to a raging anger as his hand gripped tightly in the mane of the trembling lilith frame before him, slamming her into the wall as he screamed in psychotic rage. "NEVER! You will never be that demon's angel! NEVER..."

Christine shook as tears haphazardly fell down her cheeks, her breasts quivered with her breaths as she quickly tried to grab at his hands like a drowning maiden would be carried down a swift stream at the rocks along the riverside. "Raoul stop please I beg of you p-plea-!"

**Suddenly darkness…**

"…Angels belong in heaven Christine…hehe…In heaven! I'll send you to your light…you'll see…demons don't go to heaven no no no NO! Never! He'll never have you…"

He began to pull the unconscious frame of his fiancé behind him, the tresses of her evergreen gown running over the wood boards of the floor, and soon over the tiles of the bathroom. He had called for one of the handmaidens to run his bath, no questions asked, and for her to retire to her room for the rest of the night. Standing over the curve of the bath, the water steaming lightly as he grinned, lifting the body of his supposed beloved and sitting her down in the watery depths. By now he had gagged and blind-folded her, as no doubt she would awaken in what was about to unfurl next…

No one could of helped her…no one at all…the servants could hear her screams and splashing echo through this house of vanity and superficial riches…Mephistoles's grin lingered on Raoul's lips as he forced Christine's head under the waters surface, watching her body wriggle and struggle against his strength, occasionally allowing her head to bob up, absolutely **_loving _**the sounds of her gasps and cries against the material of the gag. Her arms trying desperately to grab at the edgings of the tub, her legs kicking feverishly, smacking loudly into the hard sidings of the tub.

"Come now Christine! What's wrong? Why can't you speak darling? Huh? Tell me if you angel of music will save you now!"

His hands forcefully pushed away the locks of hair that clung to her face, her chest heaved horribly as her body shook, finally he removed the gag and the blindfold, staring down in the horrified eyes of his Little Lotte.

"Darling…say you'll love me…." He hesitated, moving his hand down to clutch her lovely throat. "Every waking moment…" And in one plunge he forced her body down once more, until her movements stilled and ceased.

_12 years later._

The shimmer of faint fires lulled the man as he sat in front of his fireplace, his arm lifting from the armrest of his chair to cradle his chin quietly in contemplation.

The Count Raoul DeChangy had left that night without a word to anyone…he left the body of his fiancé in the tub…he had left his servants…his family…everyone…never to look back…he had left and moved to Germany, to start a new life…he found a new wife as well, Elizabeth Vivlan Monrue, she wasn't of German decent of course, she too had ran to Germany to escape her demons…They lived together now for 8 years…and she bared him one daughter, a sweet dimple cheeked blue-eyed daughter with bright red curls…like her mothers….She was 7 years old now…a darling example of innocence and security in Raoul's life.

Her laughter pang through the walls of the library as she ran into the room, twirling as the gossamer purple shards of material flew around her frame from the skirt of her dress, before hopping up into her fathers lap.

"Oh papa!" she cried joyously, hugging her father affectionately, an object held tightly in the clutches of her small hand, the object dug lightly into her fathers back during the hug.

A soft tamed chuckle let Raoul's lips as he held his daughter in his arms, the symbol of his resurrection…the symbol of his happiness…

"Mmm my sweet Beth…what do you have there darling?"

She paused and smiled, before holding up an object for him to see, his face contorted in horror as his fingertips dug into the armrests of the chair, his body going rigid. His breath grew shallow as his eyes widened beyond belief. A horrified expression dominating his face as he was at a total standstill.

"…Where…did you get that Beth…?"

He stared down at his daughter…her rounded cute little face…her lovely porcelain cheeks…porcelain…white…

a white cheek…

a white half of a face…

a mask…

The mask his daughter now held in her pretty little clutches.

"Oh papa isn't it pretty? A woman and man stopped here earlier before you came home from the mill papa! The woman was so pretty…with brown pretty curly locks! She said to give this to you…" she hesitated and looked up at her daddy and grinned "The man had darker hair…and pretty gold eyes…he told me to tell you something..." she turned in her fathers lap, leaning up playfully with a mischievous glint in her eye.

"I. Win."

Raoul's eyes twitched with fury as he forced his daughter off his lap, a soft cry of protest escaping her mouth as she looked up in confusion at her father, the mask spilling from her hand and clattering over the floor in front of the fireplace, the eerie glow of the fire's flame casting itself upon the pale color of the half mask…a foreshadowing or warning perhaps…

"Papa…?" Her voice soft calling out through the shadows to her father, her young eyes widened with fear as he began to approach her.

"Don't worry little Beth…" his hands dangerously ran through her locks of hair in a possessive manner.

"Everything will be just fine…my darling little angel…you want to go to heaven don't you…? Of course you do…so be a good girl and stay still…"

No one could of helped her…no one at all…the servants could hear her screams and splashing echo through this house of vanity and superficial riches…Mephistoles's grin lingered on Raoul's lips as he forced Beth's head under the waters surface, watching her body wriggle and struggle against his strength, occasionally allowing her head to bob up, absolutely **_loving _**the sounds of her gasps and cries against the material of the gag. Her arms trying desperately to grab at the edgings of the tub, her legs kicking feverishly, smacking loudly into the hard sidings of the tub.

Now he sat alone and cold in the corner of his library, laughing softly to himself in choked sobs as he held the mask in his hands.

"A mask of death…my dear sweet Beth…"

His head hung as he slowly lifted his chin, placing the mask on the side of his face with glee.

"I am death that haunts you when you look away! I am the Phantom of your pain...give into me…I will stalk you to the ends of the earth and beyond. My white mask of death? a mere demonstration of my horrid delight! Virgin white and concealing my true nature I sneer as I watch you, my prey…I am a monster cast away from the world of happiness and a mothers love…so here I am now…to take from you what should have been mine...a life of light…a life of love…"

In his final moment, he had taken a pistol out of his dresser drawer… swallowed the barrel… and pulled the trigger. His blood splattered amongst his possessions…like the sin which had corrupted his soul.

Christine had found a way to live through the horrifying experience…hurt, confused and entirely vulnerable feeling she had ran back to the Opera to find her angel…she had explained Raoul's manifested insanity and how he had attempted to kill her but never knew he didn't succeed…and pleaded for forgiveness for confusing a man for a monster…They had eloped 5 months after and soon were married and blissfully happy. Christine had forced Erik to promise her that he would not kill Raoul...but to let his insanity rule his life…if she had known however of his fate she would not of allowed Erik to bask in his triumph and send his mask to Raoul to mock him…

End>


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